


The Things of Our Blood

by myownremedy



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownremedy/pseuds/myownremedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>before movie/novel. Dally has trouble expressing himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this almost 10 so apologies if it's bad. It's also quite unbeta-ed. please point out mistakes! <3 Also, the title of this chapter is 'Oxygen'. I can't make that show up for some reason. My apologies.  
> Disclaimer: characters belong to SE Hinton, not me. no copyright infringement intended  
> edit (4-13-15): this is a transformative work. I make no money off of it. I do not own what inspired this work (The Outsiders), but I do own this work itself and hold full copyright over it. Thank you.

You are proud – strong. Elfin faced, lynx eared, sunshine haired – but you are dangerous. You look at the world with a horribly jaded, cold view, and you know this – you accept this. Your life has made you what you are. You are a hood, a greaser – you have no soul. You cannot be saved. You know you will only end up in jail or dead before you’re twenty-five.

You used to not care.

But then you met him, and things changed. He was so scared, so the complete opposite of what you were. It reminded you of how you could have been, and you began to appreciate him. He was not jaded, not bitter, not calloused or cold like you are. Instead he was paranoid but loving, loyal and adorable. He was – is still, you remind yourself fiercely, is still – your johnnycake. 

When you saw him with bruises all over his face you wanted to kill his father. And you could have, too – you had killed before. It wasn’t hard. Things stopped being hard after you sealed off your emotion, after you past the point of caring. But you couldn’t kill his father – he didn’t want you too. You were angry, so angry, and you were about to stride over to his house when he puts a hand on your arm and says, “Don’t. Please, don’t.”

Your heart (your cold, frozen, untouched heart that is incapable of love) swells with a new emotion and you feel like you cannot breathe. Everything falls away and there is just him and you. His eyes are all you see – his breath is all you hear. And all you can feel is his hand on your bare arm. Skin on skin. Fire on ice.

After that you are close, and you are told by the gang that Johnny worships you. You don’t understand why – you worship him. He is so loving, so kind – such a good person. You want to be like him, though you know you can’t. He’s helping you become a better person, though. You just know it. And he loves so freely – he loves you, loves you despite your flaws.

One day you realize you love him back. One day you realize that your love for him is your only redeeming quality.

You love him, and it is alien – queer, strange. But you are strange, strong, dangerous – it would only fit that this love you have for him is dangerous, that it is burning a hole in your heart. For the first time in your life you love something, and he deserves your love so much. But you are proud, flighty, strong – you are impatient and you know he will never make the first move. Oh, the first few glances of pure love you see him give you help you delude yourself into thinking that he’ll make the first move, but as you wait and it is painfully clear time is short, you realize you have to make the first move. It is up to you. You are his hero, after all.

You stress over how to make the first move and there’s no way too. Your frustration builds and you are more aggressive than usual – you see that you scare your friends, but not him. He accepts it, and places a hand on your arm, finally asking you in a concerned, shaking voice why you are so antsy.

You respond with out thinking. You push him against the wall – you dully note that his eyes go wide with terror, but that he moves towards you, trying to find comfort in the warmth and love you have always offered him. It feels so goddamn good and your breathing comes fast and harsh.

“Because of this,” you say, your voice rough, and then you kiss him. And no kiss has ever been like this – no kiss has ever meant as much as this. Soft, warm – sparks explode in front of your eyes and you melt, you are so happy and god, for once you will allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of another person because its  _Johnny._

He starts to kiss you back and there isn’t enough oxygen in your lungs but you don’t care because god this is the best – this is heaven, right here. You know you aren’t going to heaven, you’re going to hell, and you thank God for letting someone love you, for letting him give you heaven on earth.

Then he pulls away for air and you open your eyes. You meet his shocked, big black puppy dog eyes, and he raises a hand to your face, brushing away a wisp of golden hair, letting his fingers gently trace the shape of your nose and the part of your lips, the sharpness of your cheek bones and the symmetry of your eyes.

 _“Dallas,”_  He whispers, shocked. “Dallas.”

“Fuck it.” You hiss suddenly, spinning and kicking the steel wall – your foot hurts and you focus on it rather than the tears burning in your eyes. “I knew – I thought – fuck.”

And you run. For the first time in your life, you, Dallas Winston, run from something, and you leave Johnny – and your heart – behind.


	2. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darry's take on the entire situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allusions of child-abuse.

You haven’t seen Dallas or Johnny together since last week, and that worries you. In fact, you haven’t seen Dallas at all since then, and whenever you ask Johnnycake where he is, Johnny looks miserable and beaten, mumbling something like “I don’t know, Darry, I don’t know.”

You’re cold and intimidating, maternal in a detached sort of way. No, you haven’t forgotten what you gave up to raise your brothers (and the rest of the gang). No, you haven’t forgotten what you could have been. No, no one lets you forget. But secretly, you think it’s worth it, simply to see Ponyboy win his race and see you cheering him on, or simply to watch Sodapop goof around and get high off life, and take part in it because you are his brother.

You are their rock, and you will always be there for them.  _Always,_  you promise them silently, always. But it isn’t just them that you stayed for. Yes, they were the main reason – but what about Two-bit? What about Steve, or Johnny, or Dally? Oh god, Dally…No one else knows this, but he needs looking out for just as much as anybody else. You know how he feels about Johnny – heck, you knew before he knew himself. And you know how Johnny feels about him – in fact, you know how everyone feels about each other. People don’t expect you to say much, so you don’t; instead you simply watch. 

You see how love for Johnny thaws Dally’s ice; you see how much he adores the younger boy, how much he worships him. Actually, you know this for a fact, because once he told you.

It had been a while ago, maybe three weeks ago? You had been up late, simply because there was a feeling of foreboding that filled your stomach and dreams, and you were restless. You thought that the summer air might clear your head, so you wandered outside of the house to rest against it. But to your surprise, Dally was there. You had assumed he had left hours ago; he had brought Johnny here after finding him, bleeding and bruised. And while you guys didn’t always get along well, you nodded to him and leaned against the house beside him, staring up at the stars in silence.

“I want to kill his father.” Dally had said suddenly, and when you had looked over at him, you saw how rigid and tense he was; how angry he was. You saw that dangerous look in his eyes, and despite yourself, you were afraid. But you never show your fear; you are the rock for the gang. So instead you nod and say:

“All of us do.” Your words are lost, because he’s talking again, and he’s saying more than you’ve ever heard him say before.

“I mean, he’s a good kid – no, a great kid. He doesn’t get high, ain’t a hood, only a greaser ‘cause he ain’t got no other choice…He’s such a good kid, he ain’t changed for the worse because of what his folks do to him. He’s still pure, still innocent, still nice – whatever that’s called. Ponyboy is the one with the words, not me. But I just – why don’t they love him like we love ‘im? Why don’t he get the love he deserves? Why can’t they see that they’ve got a good kid? Why don’t they understand…I mean…Why can’t they love him like I love ‘im?”

You stay silent, but turn to look at him fast like, because Dally is supposed to be incapable of loving someone. Dally didn’t notice your look – he stared straight ahead and shifted from foot too foot, hands in his pockets.

“I mean, everyone – every goddamn one – says he worships me or summit. I don’t – I don’t – understand. I’m such a bad guy, such a hood, I can’t feel anymore, y’know? I’m bound to spend life in the cooler or get killed by the fuzz before I’m twenty-five, and that’s all because of what happened to me. But what happened to me – it’s nothing compared to what Johnnycake goes through, and he’s still such a good person. I admire him, so much…Love him, so much…”

The fight went out of Dally and he slumped against the house. You were silent for a time, half shocked because you’ve never heard that many words come out of Dally’s mouth, half saddened by the fact that people don’t give Dally enough credit; he cares about Johnny. He really does.

In that moment, you understood that Dally would rather die than let anything happen to Johnnycake, and you relax. You don’t have to be protecting him as well as the rest of them, then. He’s got his own angel, now; he’s got Dally.

So you can’t blame yourself for being worried when Johnny appears, with out Dally, and it stays that way for a week. You can’t blame yourself for asking Tim if he’s heard of Dally, but of course the answer is no. 

You also cannot blame yourself for being surprised – and relieved – when you go out of the house to get some late summer air and find Dally there again, looking just as tortured and confused as last time. And you can’t blame yourself for going and putting a hand on his shoulder, and sighing as you look at the stars before speaking.

“He’s on the couch. Hasn’t been the same with out you there, Dal. He misses you.” You two stand in silence for a bit, and you politely pretend to not notice the fact that Dally is shaking with silent sobs. Instead you just squeeze his shoulder and go back in the house, pausing to look at Johnny. And you’re shocked to see that he’s wide awake, and that he has been listening to the entire thing. But isn’t your business, so you nod at him before heading towards your room, briefly checking on Sodapop and Ponyboy before collapsing on your bed.


	3. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dally and Johnny are finally reunited. Somewhere, asleep, Darry is a smug bastard. There is also a hell of a lot of angst, because it's The Outsiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so idk if either of them are in character, again still unbetaed. thanks for reading <3

Everything was so much easier to do at night. You’ve noticed this a hundred times before. Rob a store, have a rumble…They are all easier to do at night. This thing, this sudden act of bravery that prompts you to open the Curtis’s door and walk over to the family room and stop in front of the couch – it’s easier to do because it’s night and no one can see you.

But god – seeing him all battered and small, curled up on the couch with moonlight spilling over him – that doesn’t make anything easier, except maybe for you to mentally kick yourself for hurting him.

You hurt him. You, his protector, his angel, his idol – you hurt him. And you know that you will never fully forgive yourself. 

For a minute, all you do is stand there, staring at him – scared, so goddamn scared. People think you can’t be scared, and you thought so too – but boy, they were wrong. You were wrong. So goddamn wrong. Johnny scares the shit out of you – you’re scared of hurting him, losing him, being left or hated by him. In fact, you can’t  _move_  without thinking your doing something wrong, not after last week, and thus you are frozen, staring down at him, when he opens his eyes and stares at you. 

 _“Dally,”_  he breathes, and that unfreezes you – he is the fire that thaws you. Wordlessly, you stride over as he sits up, and grab his chin forcefully. To Johnny’s credit, he doesn’t wince – he meets your eyes and you see your reflection in them. You are intense and fearless looking, with emotion filled, hard eyes and elfin faced. Nothing had really changed – but looking at yourself, looking at the raw need, the naked vulnerability that you knew only Johnny knew you well enough to see – that makes you release his chin and instead you turn away. You look at the TV; you look at the floor; you look anywhere but at him. 

He traces your high cheek bones, your sharp chin…his hand brushes back your hair and trails to your lips, before falling to your shoulder. You feel his warmth (because it was too hot to wear a shirt) and you shudder before sighing, relaxing into it. And because its night and you’re not looking at him, its easier to admit that yes, those are tears spilling down your cheeks, and yes, you are shaking under his hand with the force of your sobs.

You aren’t strong anymore – he’s torn you down, stripped away your armor and now you are utterly naked in his eyes, easy to hurt, easy to hate. You wouldn’t blame him for hating or hurting you – you’d understand. You hurt him, after all. You left him.

“Dally?” He whispers, voice shaking and higher than usual. His hand leaves your shoulder and you start, look around at him, see him wiping his own tears. “Dally, do you hate me?” And you know he’s still your Johnnycake.

You can’t even describe what happens next; you grab his thin shoulders, you let your hand fall to the small of his back, over his protruding spine, and you pull him too you, hugging him with all of your strength, fighting to hold on. One of your hands buries itself in his hair and you stroke it, and then you pull his head back and you kiss him – you kiss him roughly, fiercely, until his lips are almost blue and you are both panting.

“Fuck no.” You hiss, the tears drying up instantly. 

“Oh.” He whispers, still crying – you pull him too you and he shifts, lets you sprawl down and curls up in your lap. “Oh, good.”

And when he’s asleep and you’ve curled up around him protectively, you kiss his head fiercely and whisper: “I could never hate you, Johnny.”


	4. Bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sodapop's take on the situation. Apparently it's so filling he forgot about his midnight snack. Um, that sounds bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still un-beta-ed. Errrr getting into Sodapop's head was quite easy. I enjoyed it. Please tell me if you think it's not properly in character o_O

Hearing the door slam wakes you up; you untangle yourself from Ponyboy and creep out into the hall, then into the kitchen, simply because you are hungry. Pausing in the doorway to the family room, you see Dally wander in, looking lost. Glory, he’s crying! This causes your mouth to fall open because Dally never cries. Dally is tough and tuff – he’s Dally. That doesn’t make sense, or maybe it does, but you don’t care because your feelings of shock have turned to approval. He should feel sorry for abandoning Johnny like that – seriously, the kid was lost with out him all week long.

And then you feel sorry for thinking this because, well, its  _Dally_  and he’s  _crying_. And as you said before, Dally  _never_  cries. Dally doesn’t even feel, as far as you know.  As far as  _anyone_  knows.

You watch Dally pause over Johnny’s form on the couch – you see the moonlight splay over Johnny and you smile to yourself, because he’s so innocent and pure looking in that moonlight. Heck, he looks like nothing could touch him – that’s how you feel, all the time, anytime, anyplace, anywhere. You get high off life, pure and simple – no drugs, no drinks, and rarely any cancer sticks either. It doesn’t matter that you’re stupid and that you’re working in a gas station; heck, you’ve got a girl who loves you, and you don’t need anything else but her and your family. Oh, and the gang – and cars. And Mickey Mouse, but that’s another story.

You see Johnny open his eyes; you hear him moan Dally’s name. The raw intimacy of it startles, even frightens you, which is weird ‘cus nothing startles or frightens you. You are the startler-er, the goofball, the funny man. And Johnnycake is so young…What is he doing moaning Dally’s name like that? Its pure love, a tad of lust, a lot of longing, fear (there was always fear though, but this is different so you keep it)…That was love, right there. That was what you had seen in the looks Dally gave Johnny and Johnny gave Dally.

A’course, you had always assumed that it was brotherly love. You didn’t know until now that any other kind of love between two men existed; but now you knew, and you were grinning over it, because hell – it fit, ya know? It suited Johnny and Dally.

Vaguely, you wonder why it took you so long to realize this – why the gang hasn’t noticed this yet. But then something happens and you return to the present, regretfully. There you go again – always half there, half here, bouncing hither and thither and not even on the ground, but flying high of off life…

At his name, Dally had reacted like he always did – explosively. You would find it funny except its not because there is – Heck, is there even a word for it? Anguish, yes, that’s it – so much  _anguish_  in his actions, in every line of his elfin face, in every swirl of Johnnycake’s eyes. And so you watch as he covers the distance between Johnny and him with a single stride and sits on the couch. As he does so Johnnycake sits up, and it begins to dawn on you that something has happened between these two…That they had realized what you had  _just_  realized some time ago.

You see Dally grab Johnny’s chin swiftly, and you wince  _for_  Johnny because even though Dally ain’t Darry, that looked like it hurt, plus if you were Johnny you’d be scared to death right now. Yes, Dally scares you, you’ll admit it – you don’t understand him or his kind, but you like him anyway. You’re Sodapop! You like any and everyone…Except maybe the men who took Mickey Mouse away and Johnny’s family and Sylvia…

Dally sees something in Johnny’s eyes that makes him cower; he releases Johnny and looks away, shaking with silent sobs. You still can’t get over the fact that Dally is crying! 

You hold your breath as you watch Johnny lovingly trace Dally’s features with a couple of fingers, you exhale sharply as his hand drops from Dally’s face to Dally’s bare shoulder. Blinking, you register for the first time that Dally isn’t wearing a shirt, and you take in how very catlike he is – powerful, with wiry muscles and a small, trim frame. You see how he shudders, and then responds to Johnny’s warmth, and you smile to yourself – Dally is feeling, and who better to love him that the person he provides love too?

Maybe that didn’t make sense, but it does to you.

You see Dally start when Johnny moves his hand to wipe his own tears, speaking as he did so. “Dally?” You hear Johnny whisper, and it breaks your heart. His voice is high pitched and shaking. “Dally, do you hate me?”

Time freezes – maybe that’s a cliché but who cares – as Dally turns and grabs Johnny in his arms, hugging him and stroking his back, his hair, before pulling Johnny back. You watch Dally ravage Johnny’s mouth in a sort of sick fascinated way and when Johnny and Dally pull apart, you see that Johnny’s mouth is bruised-looking and both of them are panting.

“Fuck no,” You hear Dally hiss, and you approve – of course, you knew Dally didn’t hate Johnny. Dally could never hate Johnny. That was appallingly obvious to you now.

You have to hold back a laugh as Johnny says dumbly, “Oh.” Dally wipes Johnny’s tears away as Johnny says, “Oh, good.” And you cover your mouth to keep from laughing, though your hand isn’t big enough to cover the smile that’s conquering your face.

It fits, you think – they fit. You watch in silence as Dally sprawls on a couch and Johnny curls up in his lap, snuggling into his smooth, pale skin and fiery warmth. You watch Johnny fall asleep, and you watch Dally curl around Johnny protectively, murmuring something like “I could never hate you, Johnny.” Into his sleeping ear. And you smile, hunger completely forgotten, as you turn and saunter back into Ponyboy’s room – because, well, you whole heartedly approve.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [tumblr!](http://marnz.tumblr.com/) prompts welcome.


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